Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
“A nd now, let’s finish with our hands raised up high, like we’re reaching for the stars.”
Bailey demonstrated, smiling as the little girls obeyed. “Now turn around in a circle, then feet together in first position.” She waited until they were all finished. “Now step to the right,” she showed them, “tuck your left foot behind as you curtsy, then do the other side, as we say Thank You.”
“Thank You,” the little girls chorused.
The studio’s door opened, and her heart tightened, but no, it was only one of the tiny tots’ moms. She kept her smile dialed wide, as the little girls chattered, and she thanked them—and their parents—for their support these past few weeks.
“It must feel weird being back,” one of the dance moms said.
She nodded. “It certainly does.”
It was an even weirder feeling knowing she had a target on her back. The nameless goons out there who sent her pictures of body parts and other tawdry requests were part of the price of fame, so Coco, Hannah, and the nice police detective she’d spoken to had said. But while her phone was now in the hands of the police, and they’d begun a criminal harassment file and asked her to keep a record of all such encounters as more evidence, it didn’t help as she continued to feel the sting of injustice. How could her success be tainted by some stupid people? How could her phone number, which she needed for her business, be held to ransom by such cruelty? She prayed the police would find them soon.
She listened as various parents offered their opinions on her dances, and her costumes, and most often, Luc, and just what a hunk of spunk he’d turned out to be. She nodded politely, deflecting some of the more personal questions as she wondered whether they’d be here when he finally appeared. The nine o’clock Wednesday class had been at maximum capacity today. No guesses why.
She glanced at Poppy, who seemed to understand the need to intervene, allowing Bailey to excuse herself to quickly change from her ballerina costume. It was off with the pink tights and leotard and a pale pink sheer skirt, something the little girls all liked her to wear, to something more appropriate for the interview with Stella from the Post .
She really hoped she could see Luc before Stella arrived, as there was so much to say. It was crazy after spending so much time together in recent weeks that she physically ached to see him. And while she understood he was busy, she still thought he’d want to know some of what had been hitting the fan in her world.
The last of the tiny tots disappeared, and she returned to see Stella had arrived and was speaking to Poppy. There was still no sign of Luc.
Okay, then. Time to adult up and push past her fragile emotions. “Hi Stella. I’m Bailey.”
“Bailey, so nice to meet you.”
They exchanged pleasantries, and Bailey gestured her to the seats on the side where the Dance Off crew had sat just a few weeks ago. How bizarre to think so much had happened in such a short time.
“So, Bailey, how are you feeling after all that’s happened? Your head must be spinning.”
“There’s definitely been a lot to take in,” she admitted.
“And while I’ve got you, before Luc arrives, anything you care to share, woman to woman, about him?”
“Um, not really. He’s a hard worker, and I know he surprised himself with how good he got in just a few weeks.”
“He obviously had a very good teacher,” Stella said.
“Obviously.” She half-smiled, so Stella knew she wasn’t taking herself too seriously.
“And now you’re going out with him, so everyone is saying.”
“Are they?”
“That’s definitely what that kiss suggested on Sunday night’s finale. And all the pictures that have been posted of you two holding hands or hugging. Are you suggesting otherwise?”
She’d be suggesting they reschedule this interview—or postpone it indefinitely—if Stella didn’t change topics soon. But she couldn’t afford to tick off the local media. She wished Luc would hurry up. Lord, what do I say?
The words appeared. “I think I’d rather save that topic for when Luc is here.” She smiled, willing the woman to accept it.
Stella’s forehead creased, then smoothed as she nodded. “I’m sure there is a lot you’re working through.”
Bailey nodded, pressing her lips together, as she studied her leopard dance shoes. They were new, a gift from a local dance supplier, and a little more “extra” than her usual dance attire. But she liked how they made her feel more assertive, and after last night’s confidence-stealing situation at the Police Service, she wanted every bit of assurance boost she could get. If only Luc was here.
“So, I don’t know why Luc is late,” Stella said, “but I suppose we can get started. How about we start with an easy one. Can you tell me about how you first got into dance?”
“Sure.”
Bailey shared about her mother’s passion for dancing, her childhood learning the usual ballet, tap and jazz before ballroom stole her attention as a preteen. Then it had been a battle between ballet and ballroom, before a ballet scholarship had won out, which had later seen her travel and dance in France, Germany, and England.
“And what brought you back?” Stella asked.
“I had some health challenges, and it soon became clear it was time to return,” her heart panged, “and my family were glad to have me back.” So glad. She still remembered her parents clinging to her at a time of great grief.
Stella shook her head. “I find it interesting that you could train for so many years only to give it up.”
Bailey shrugged. “Sometimes these things are out of your control.” Like illness because a man she liked called her heavy. Or dancing masters who refused to give her lead roles. Or family pain that tugged her home. “Anyway, when I was back here, I realized how much I wanted to pass on my love of dance, so I opened the studio four years ago with my good friend Poppy James.” She smiled at Poppy, who waved.
Stella nodded to Poppy. “And I understand that you’re the youngest sister of Franklin James?”
“Yes.”
“He plays for Calgary, right?”
Bailey caught Poppy’s slightly exasperated look, as she pressed her lips together. “That’s right.”
“And you—sorry, Bailey, but Poppy is interesting, too—I understand you grew up on a ranch with its own movie set.”
“You’ve certainly done your homework. Yep, it’s the Three Creek Ranch. They’ve filmed some of the As the Heart Draws series there, which is something Dance Off ’s winner, Jason Streetley, once acted in.” Poppy rose. “Is there anything else? I have some work to do.”
“No, thanks. That’s great. Actually, can I get a quick photo of you? Maybe the two of you together?”
“Sure.”
They got a picture taken of them, then Poppy exited to the office, and Stella asked Bailey to continue. “So, you and Poppy opened the studio? You must’ve been very young.”
“Yes.” Young and foolish, some might say. “But we loved working together, and loved teaching, and because we had a range of experience it meant we could offer a wide variety of classes.”
“I see. And the call-up to Dance Off ?”
“I’ve been friends with Coco Flintoff since our earliest dance days, and then she moved more into theatrical performance while I went to Europe and later opened my studio here, but we always stayed in touch. When she heard there was a Winnipeg-based celebrity she recommended me for the job, as it meant we could start training straight away.”
“I see. Well, that’s most interesting. Now, I wonder where your boyfriend is?”
She shrugged, not biting, as she wondered that too.
“Can’t say or don’t want to say?” Stella teased.
Just then the door opened and Luc walked in.
Her chest grew tight, and she knew an overwhelming desire to cry, but she blinked it back, conscious Stella was watching closely. Bailey stood, smiling as he drew nearer. “Luc, this is Stella Jones from the Winnipeg Post .”
“We talked on the phone,” Stella said, shaking his hand. “Thanks for coming.”
“Sorry I’m late. I had a meeting with the GM and couldn’t get away.” He glanced at Bailey, but she could only smile briefly before glancing down, before realizing how that must look to Stella, and fixing her attention her way instead.
Why she felt awkward around him, when she’d been doing so many interviews with him in recent times, she couldn’t explain. Except she really needed him to hold her, for him to notice that she needed him, and the fact this woman was here while she had an urgent need for his hug felt too difficult to explain. And maybe that made her as immature as one of her tiny tots but she couldn’t help it. The fact he’d barely acknowledged her in the past few days, especially when she’d really needed him, made her want to cry.
“Bailey?”
Luc’s deep voice sparked fresh tears, and she shook her head. “Excuse me a minute.”
She hurried to the washrooms, bracing her hands on the edge of the metal sink, and stared at her reflection. Good. Red eyes hadn’t made an appearance yet. She needed to get it together. She’d managed the rest of her life without leaning on a man, so why had she let herself fall so fast?
She sucked in a deep breath, smiled at her reflection. She was a performer. A pro. She could do this. Her shoulders straightened, and she drew comfort from her excellent posture, something which always gave an edge, or so her many dancing instructors had said.
She exited the bathroom only to startle at the sight of Luc, arms folded, leaning against the opposite wall.
“Bails.”
No. She wasn’t going to lose it. Not with a reporter out there wanting every juicy bit of gossip. “I can’t, Luc.”
“Can’t what?”
“Whatever you want to do or say, I just can’t right now.”
“I told her I needed to speak with you.”
“If you do, then I’ll cry, and I don’t want that. Please, let’s just do the interview, and talk after. Okay?”
He nodded, and she returned to her seat, and smiled. She’d fake it until she made it to the end.
* * *
Had he done something wrong? Bailey was hardly her usual sunny self. She’d barely looked at him, and he had a funny feeling he was somehow responsible, but he didn’t know exactly why. He studied his shoes as the reporter asked another question. He hoped she would finish this interview soon, because he had another meeting at twelve, and already he was burning to hurry this up and talk to Bailey properly. They’d be squeezed for time as it was.
“Luc?”
“Sorry, could you please repeat the question?”
“I asked which was your favorite dance during the show.”
“The tango.”
Stella smiled. “I’m going to guess that’s because of the special ending?”
“Sure.” He wasn’t about to tell her it was the dance that made him feel most alive.
“And Bailey wanted us to wait until you were here before answering this question. Can you tell us about the rumors that you two are now a couple?”
Luc glanced at Bailey. She glanced away, her fixed smile on Stella like she didn’t want to look at him. Why didn’t she? Why hadn’t she answered this question? Hadn’t they discussed this already? “Yes, we are.”
He reached across and grasped Bailey’s hand and squeezed it, doing his best to reassure. Something had happened, and he needed to know. Now. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, especially as I was late today, but I’m really slammed with stuff at the moment. Is there anything else you need us for, or can we take a few pics and be done?”
“Oh! Well, I suppose I can call you if there’s anything else I need you to clarify. But yes, a few pictures would be nice. Perhaps the two of you striking a pose?”
“Sure.” Anything to get this done so he could talk to Bailey. He turned to her. Tipped her chin up. “Bails? What do you suggest?”
“Whatever you like,” she murmured.
What he’d like was a kiss or hug, but he settled for a pose that showed the drama of their waltz, where he held her in one of those dramatic lifts that had scored so well with the judges. Stella wanted another, which they obliged, then a third, which he did not, as he was fast getting the impression this reporter was out for whatever she could get, and the longer they did this the more apparent it was that Bailey needed her to leave.
“Well, thanks, Stella. It was nice to meet you. You’ll let us know if there’s anything else you need, right?”
“Thanks. I’ll call you. I have your numbers.”
Bailey coughed. “I have a new phone, so maybe call him instead.”
So that’s why she hadn’t responded to his calls. Okay. “Thanks again, Stella.” He studied her, his arm around Bailey as he waited for his unsubtle request to sink in.
“Good luck you two,” Stella replied, gathering her things, then exiting with a final wave.
He counted one, two, three, then Bailey turned to him. “Oh, Luc.”
He folded her into his chest, as she shuddered, and his shirt grew wet. Whoa. “Bails? What’s happened?”
She shook her head, sniffling, and he caught sight of Poppy James standing at the office door. He made a “What’s wrong?” gesture at her, and Poppy grimaced, then drew close, and placed a hand on Bailey’s back.
“Bails? You need to tell him.”
“You tell him,” Bailey rasped.
“Okay.” Poppy sighed. “Bailey got sent some gross images, and has had a bunch of idiots make all kinds of rude comments. She’s taken her phone to the police which is why they still have it, just in case you’ve tried to call her recently.”
“I did, I have.” He bent to see Bailey. He’d never seen her cry like this before, and the sight ripped at his heart. “Bails, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you. I wish I’d known.”
“I know you’ve been busy, and I didn’t want to get in the way of all you had to do.”
“Hey.” He glanced at Poppy, and tried to gesture for her to scram without saying it. He appreciated her, but right now needed a moment alone with his girl.
Poppy smirked and sashayed back to the office, earning herself a thank-you bouquet later, and he picked Bailey up and hugged her closer to his chest. “Bails, you’re safe. You’re okay. I’m here, and I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.”
Except it already had. He grimaced. Then stroked her soft, soft hair, as her breathing calmed. A desperate desire to say three words he’d never told another woman gathered in his mouth. He swallowed. He was so bad at this boyfriend stuff, but knew he could’ve—should’ve—done better. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been around much. I promise I’ll do better.”
She lifted a tearstained face, and swiped at her tears. “Oh, Luc. It’s not you.”
“Are you sure? I’m not great at knowing what you need, but if you tell me, I’ll do my best to help.”
She crumpled, her arms around his shoulders. “That’s all I really need.”
Okay, then. He hugged her, silently praying for her to know peace, as her breath shuddered.
“I don’t even know why I’m so upset. I think it’s just everything feels so much. Too much. It’s crazy to think that when we were doing the show things actually felt a lot easier, and now it’s all so overwhelming.”
“What’s overwhelming you?”
“The business. There have been so many applications and students, and offers to partner with us pouring in, we can’t keep up.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Yes,” she wailed, then laughed.
It was a pale version of the laughter he loved so much, but it was a start, and a thousand percent better than her tears.
“It is a good thing, and I shouldn’t complain. It’s just we’ve been overwhelmed with trying to figure out how to go forward and what classes to have, and then I have to redo the website and then there are all these creepy people out there.”
Yeah, that. His hands clenched, and he forced himself to calm. She didn’t need him getting furious about the weirdos. Besides, “The police are handling that now, aren’t they?”
“Yes. But my phone number is the one associated with the business, so I hate to think that some idiots out there are stopping potential clients or opportunities.”
Like Joanne calling about Bailey returning next season. But now was not the time to talk about that. “The people who really want you will figure out other ways to be in touch. And the police will likely find out soon who has done this, so I’m sure it won’t be long until you’re back to normal.”
“But that’s the thing.” She pulled away, looked up at him seriously, as he cradled her waist. “I don’t know if there is a normal anymore. We can’t go back to being unknown. I’m always going to be the dance pro who danced with Luc Blanchard.”
He knew exactly what she meant. The level of interest in his life was something he’d never expected. He wondered if people like Zac Parotti ever figured out how to manage success. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m always going to be known as the celebrity who was lucky enough to dance with Bailey Donovan.”
She laughed then, a real laugh, her smile shining in her eyes this time, not just in her lips. He slid his hands up her back, to her neck, to her cheeks, and lowered his face. “I’ve really missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she whispered.
And he lowered his face for a kiss.
Long, golden, as perfect as a sunset over the sea, his stomach swooped and sang as her arms stole up his back. This wasn’t a kiss witnessed by millions. Wasn’t witnessed by anyone, he hoped. He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her more deeply, until she drew back with a gasp.
“Sorry.” She drew in a deep breath, then pointed to her nose. “Clogged-up nose. I couldn’t breathe.”
He smiled. “We need to go out on a real date soon, huh?”
“That’d be good.”
“I know life is frantic at the moment, but if you let me know when works best for you, I’ll make it work.” Somehow.
“But you’re so busy.”
“I’ll make it work,” he repeated. “You’re my priority.”
Her face softened. “Really?”
“Yep.” He hugged her close again, murmured in her ear, “I’d much rather spend time with you than my teammates or trainer.”
She laughed as he’d hoped. “Then you should be sure to do something about that.”
“Dinner. My place tonight.”
He didn’t know where those words came from. Had no idea what his apartment looked like, or what time his last appointment finished. But as she stroked his face, her look close to adoration, he found he didn’t care.
He hadn’t been joking. Bailey was his priority, and he’d do whatever it took to show that she’d never need to doubt that again.